Slipping Away
by Moonsp1r1t
Summary: The Bleeding Effect is causing Desmond to forget things that are important to him, and no one is around to help him. One-shot.


I sat bolt upright in the Animus 2.0, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes with my fists, slowly returning to the present. I was Desmond, Desmond Miles, not Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"Alright, Desmond." came Rebecca Crane's voice from somewhere to my left, "We're done for now. Why don't you take a break? I'll call you over in a few."

I swung my legs off of the machine I loathed and, in a strange sort of way, craved. I buried my face into my hands, sliding them upward to run my fingers through my hair, making it messier than it already was. I stood up and stretched, cracking my back, my body stiff from sitting so still for so long.

Having nothing better to do, I began to aimlessly wander around the Grand Temple. My father looked up from whatever he was doing, nodded curtly, and looked away. I stared at him, in spite of myself; honestly, I didn't think of the man before me as my father. My father was beheaded when I was eleven. No, my father was hanged along with my brothers when I was seventeen. But that wasn't right either, because my father was a Templar, and I was searching for a common target with him right now.

I shook my head out of my broken and distorted thoughts and turned away. I glanced over to see Shaun watching me with a single eyebrow raised. His expression clearly read as, _What are you doing out of the Animus? You should get back inside before you mess something up. _I rolled my eyes at him before turning away from him too, and finding a sort-of secluded area of the temple.

I stared at my face in the over-shiny obsidian, and hissed in irritation. I could no longer just see _my_ face when I looked at my reflection; I could see Altaïr in my lips and my hair, I see Ezio in my eyes and the shape of my face. Now, recently, I see Connor in my skin-tone and my expression. It seems that I am just them, now, and no longer me.

My eyes, or quite possibly Ezio's eyes, widen slightly as I stare at myself. I can no longer remember which of my parents I take after. I think back to moments before when I was looking at the man who was supposedly my father. I didn't think I really looked like him, so it must be my mother.

My mother. I pause, trying to bring up a face to fit the person I'm thinking of. The first face I come up with it takes me a moment to identify Maria Auditore. I frown and think harder until I come up with Kaniehtí:io, but I know that's not right either, because she died when I was four. No, she died when _Connor_ was four.

I continued to try to think, to remember who my mother was, not Ezio's, not Connor's, but dredging up nothing. I began to panic internally, putting my right hand against the stone to steady myself, resting my palm flat and spreading my fingers wide, bowing my head and staring at the floor.

I couldn't remember her. I remember her being present as I grew, but I could not remember her face or her name. I could not remember the sound of her voice, nor could I remember her interests or what made her laugh. My mother was little more than a phantom, of a shadow in my subconscious. I cannot exactly remember when I began to forget her, either.

I slowly head back to where the other three are standing, as Shaun addressed my father and Rebecca. I stood silently a little off to the side, my arms crossed over my chest, trying not to glower at the people around me, and resisting the urge to pull my hood up. I try not to think about where these thoughts came from, but I know without pondering too long. _Altaïr._

"I was thinking that, once this is all over, we could use the Animus to go back and look at some other ancestors." Shaun was saying brusquely, "Before Altaïr." he added, at our confused looks.

"Before... Altaïr?" I repeated slowly.

Shaun looked at me, his face passive. "Yes, Desmond. Weren't you listening? I was thinking along the lines of maybe his father, Umar, wasn't his name? What happened in his life? Or maybe before him, too."

"He was beheaded when I- Altaïr was eleven." I said shortly, cringing mentally and hoping that no one noticed my mistake.

"As long as you're feeling up for it, of course." Shaun added, much to my surprise.

I took a deep breath and allowed a small smile onto my face. "Sure, why not?"

I did not know these people. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I felt like I should. I mean, I knew their names, I knew their faces, but they may as well have been strangers.

I knew that I was Desmond, but I wasn't at the same time.

Still, I felt like I should speak to these people, so I chose Shaun at random and followed him to the far back wall of the Temple. He crouched before the gargantuan, glowing blue wall and fiddled with it. I watched him for about a minute, not understanding what he was doing. Before I could ask, however, Shaun cut me off just as my mouth was opening to speak.

"Hello, Desmond," Shaun sighed. "Go away."

I scowled and shuffled off, this time heading for "my father." Once again, before I could speak, I was cut off.

"We can't talk right now, Desmond." he said, "We have work to do. Why don't you get back in the Animus?"

"_Ho capire._" I muttered somewhat sarcastically, not noticing that I was speaking Italian, feeling a pinching sensation in the pit of my stomach, "_Nessuno mi vuole qui._"

"What did you say?" the man before me asked sharply.

"Nothing." I said dully.

He fixed me with a sharp stare before turning his focus back onto whatever he was looking at. Clearly I was not a priority. I was simply means to an end.

I sighed and began to wander aimlessly around the Grand Temple, pausing only to mindlessly scroll through my email, not pausing to read the actual words on the screen for lack of will and attention span, until Rebecca called me over to go back into the Animus. The only place I felt comfortable. The only place where I felt normal. The only place where I felt needed.

The only place where I truly felt sane.

* * *

I noticed that whenever Desmond tries to talk to someone they just tell him to go away, leave them alone, and get back into the Animus. I was trying to play around with the idea of how that makes Desmond feel, because he really needs to talk to someone. He probably feels scared and abandoned, not to mention on top of all of that he's loosing his mind.


End file.
